Watch American Badgers Casually Demolish Rattlesnakes

Rattlesnakes aren't the most potent-fanged of the world's venomous serpents, but they still pack quite the punch. And few sounds in the animal kingdom are quite so stop-you-in-your-tracks hair-raising as the signature sizzle of a rattler's namesake tail, a warning to anyone who's strayed too close to one of these "danger noodles."

It may come as something of a surprise, then, to learn that rattlesnakes—majorly important predators of rodents, birds, and other small fare—do land on a few menus themselves (and not just those of humankind). Virginia opossums hunt rattlesnakes, for example. So do roadrunners—sometimes colloquially called "snake killers"—and kingsnakes, constricting colubrids that are dedicated killers of their own kin.

Another enthusiastic rattler-eater? The American badger, as videos lately captured at a rattlesnake den in Colorado by the group Project RattleCam demonstrate. Last month, a badger—one of several that were making frequent visits to the snakeden—was filmed taking out an adult rattlesnake:

And in November 2025, the Project RattleCam livestream revealed a badger making short work of a baby rattler it caught above ground:

While they're not opposed to consuming plant matter here and there, American badgers are mainly carnivorous—significantly more so than the European badgers they superficially resemble (but which are only distant mustelid cousins). With their oversized front claws and squat bodies, they're superstar diggers, and other fossorial critters are their primary fodder. Burrowing rodents especially—including prairie dogs, pocket gophers, and voles—serve as dietary mainstays. But badgers will happily scarf on invertebrates, ground-nesting birds, lizards, and—you got it—snakes of all descriptions.

A partnership between California Polytechnic State University, Central Coast Snake Services, and Dickinson College, Project RattleCam stages livestream cameras at rattlesnake dens not only in Colorado but also California and Pennsylvania. It's part of a research effort, but also a form of outreach: encouraging community science on the part of livestream viewers as well as increased awareness of and appreciation for a creature that's widely, and unjustly, feared.

The den in Colorado is occupied by prairie rattlesnakes, a very widespread, midsized rattler species of western North America with a distribution roughly mapping out the Great Plains. Rattlesnake dens function as "hibernacula" in colder climates: snug wintertime hideyholes, occupied communally (and often shared with other species of snakes, in fact). They're also summertime maternal shelters and rookeries for gravid females.

It's worth emphasizing that the badger/rattlesnake relationship isn't solely a one-way predatory deal. American badgers excavate and maintain numerous burrows within their home range, from transient summertime snooze-zones to more consistent natal and winter dens. Abandoned badger holes become welcome underground habitat for plenty of other critters, rattlesnakes included.

But back to the predatory thing: American badgers aren't the only mustelids that'll chow down on serpents. Likely the best-known snake-eater of the weasel clan—and surely the most 'meme-fied' mustelid—is the honey badger, or ratel, of Africa and parts of southwestern and southern Asia. The only representative of its genus (like the American badger), the honey badger is the dictionary-opposite of a picky eater, and among the mass of food items it'll omnivorously inhale are numerous kinds of scaly slitherers. Those include some very formidable ones, such as black mambas, Cape cobras, and African rock pythons. (For the ultimate example of turning the tables on an antagonist—and, hey, a helpful reminder to never give up—dig this death-defying ratel's run-in with a rock python.)

Venomous snakes, in fact, may compose up to a quarter of the honey badger's diet in some areas. Studies show the ratel bears some innate venom-resistance: Genetic mutations prevent cobra-venom alphaneurotoxins from binding to receptors on the honey badger's muscle cells, thwarting the otherwise devastating effects of the snakebite. Analogous genetic protection has been identified in a number of other unrelated mammals, including hedgehogs and some mongooses—both of which consume snakes—as well as pigs (which'll also nosh on snakes opportunistically, but maybe evolved the resistance more for self-defense).

In North America, the aforementioned opossum boasts its own molecular protection against the venom of pitvipers, and kingsnakes appear to be resistant to rattlesnake bites as well. Such immunities or partial immunities in snake-hunting mammals hints at an evolutionary arms race that may shape the potency of serpent zootoxins.

It's not clear whether American badgers possess such built-in buffers against snake venom, but they certainly seem to be hardy. In a comment on one of the YouTube videos featured above, Project RattleCam suggested some form of immunity was probable. "It has not been shown in the lab," the group wrote, "but they survive bites readily." Trail-cam footage from Colorado shared by Project RattleCam (but not from its livestream feed) shows a badger gobbling up not one but two full-grown prairie rattlers. When the badger returns to the rattlesnake den for its second course, its face is noticeably puffed up, suggesting it'd been bitten but, to all appearances, is acting rather blasé about it: